


a girl worth fighting for

by Squidbitch



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Juno Steel Has Feelings, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 11:12:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19083850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squidbitch/pseuds/Squidbitch
Summary: Juno gets hurt, and Peter loves him a lot.





	a girl worth fighting for

Juno feels a knife cutting into his stomach, he cries out a gasp. It hurts like hell, but the goon thinks Juno's going to fall away, or stumble back. It gives Juno an opening, and he clocks him hard enough to knock him out. He can twist around, to elbow another, and goes to do so. 

 

Vespa slits the woman's throat before Juno can do anything, someone lifting him off his feet, and taking him away from the fight. He goes to punch them, but stops dead in his tracks. “Sage, what are you doing?!” He asks Nureyev through his grit teeth. 

 

He sets Juno down against a wall, as he frantically searches for Juno's wound. He lifts the fabric of his clothing. “Didn't peg you for the kinda guy who puts his hands up a lady's shirt without ask-”

 

“Juno, are you hurt anywhere else?” He's the closest to nervous that Juno's ever heard, that same voice that Juno heard in Miasma's tomb. His hands disappear into his endless pockets for medical supplies for a second, before he starts to patch up the wound. 

 

“I'm fine.” He finally replies, the air in his lungs getting thin. “It's not as bad as it looks, seriously-ah!” Peter's fingers accidentally touch a more sensitive part of the wound. His face twists into guilt. 

 

He looks down at the blood staining his shirt. He really should have gone with black today. “You are definitely  _ not _ fine, Juno. You've be stabbed.”

 

“I can take care of myself, I'm not a kid.” He bites back. The lights of the room seem a little too bright. 

 

“Juno, this really isn't the best time to be stubborn.”

 

Juno wheezes in a breath. “Sorry.” He's getting dizzy. “Really sorry, I should've-” He hurts, and he's bleeding. He's starting to feel like he's drowning. 

 

Peter strokes a wet hand over his face, “Shh, you have nothing to apologize for.” 

 

Another hand grabs at Juno, yanking him like a body bag. The guy must have used the wall as a cover. Peter is on the goon in an instant, slicing him up, and catching Juno. 

 

Maybe Juno's dazed with blood loss, and the fact that his lung was probably punctured. That doesn't stop his mind from thinking of Nureyev like a knight in stolen armor. His black hair in his face, a worried look in his bright brown eyes. Peter comes back to Juno's side in an instant. 

 

Juno let's out a watery laugh, as Peter moves his hair out of his face. “Thanks for protecting me.” His voice sounds weird on his tongue. He wheezes in a breath, but when he exhales it comes out as a cough. Blood splatters on the ground between them. 

 

Peter looks at it in horror. Juno doesn't know where it comes from, but a surge of emotion comes at him. A sob dislodges itself from his throat, something is dripping down his neck. He grabs at Peter's sleeve roughly, gasping. “Hurts.” He gets out. His lungs are aching unlike any asthma attack he's ever had. “Hurts, I can't breathe, and it  _ hurts.” _

 

Vespa comes into his view. Juno doesn't know when the fight stopped, and he really doesn't care.  He keeps trying to use his rational brain, trying to take category of everything that is, and is not happening. He needs to take inventory on the state of his body. 

 

There just seems to be so much happening at once. Juno feels like he's at the bottom of a well. He keeps trying to breathe in more air, but it doesn't seem like it's helping. Thoughts are also running across his mind like words on those commercial billboards. The thought that Peter just  _ saved  _ him. He's worried. He  _ cares.  _

 

Juno isn't just any damsel in distress, either. He can take care of himself well enough in a fight. He's scrappy as hell. He doesn't think he usually needs someone to protect him. Still he likes the thought of Peter caring. He might not deserve it, but that isn't the point. 

 

“Juno? Are you awake?”

 

“Mhm,” He replies, as he gets lifted up again. Nureyev is warm. Usually that would be nice, but his lungs feel like they're on fire. 

 

“Juno has never been this quiet.” Jet says in that monotone voice. There might be concern. 

 

Juno tries to breathe. It's all he can do right now. Every couple of breaths, he coughs up clots of blood. In, and out. It gets frustrating. He can't breathe right. Can't breathe  _ enough.  _ He keeps trying and trying, but it isn't enough. It hurts so bad. All he can feel is the pain of his body being jostled with the way Nureyev is rushing. It isn't the worst pain he's felt. Not by a long shot. He feels too much right at this moment to take in the reality of past events. Right here, right now, it feels like the worst thing ever. He's set down in the car slowly, like he's fragile. 

 

Through all the negative emotions powering their way through him, there's a little light in the dark. Flickering like a candle. No one has ever treated Juno like that. Not really. He doesn't let Rita touch him enough to see her be physically careful with him. He knows that she is careful with what she says. The way she acts sometimes. Sudden, loud noises have always been bad for him, and she knows that. 

 

But Peter, setting Juno down like he's precious cargo, taking his hand gently, and worriedly looking over every hurt part of Juno, it's nice. Well, it's actually terrible, all things considered, but that part, by itself is really nice. 

 

“Juno? Juno, I need you to talk to me, okay? Juno, look at me, please.”

 

He looks up at Peter. He's so dizzy, that the car feels like it's spinning. He can only look for a second, before he shoves his face in Peter's shoulder. “Can't. Too much.”

 

Peter's thumb strokes over his knuckles soothingly. “That's alright, love. Tell me what you think is wrong, please.”

 

“My lungs,” he gasps, it takes so much effort. “Hurts. Sorry. I'm really sorry.” he's using what little air he can get as fast as he can. Somewhere in his mind, he knows that he's panicking. That he's hyperventilating, as he tries to curl in on himself. “I'm sorry,” He sobs. “Shoulda been more careful. I'm sorry-I'll try to-” He gasps, hard, scrabbling at Peter's coat like that will help. 

 

Peter makes slow circles on Juno's shoulder slowly. 

 

The last thing he can coherently make out is the tears in Peter's eyes. 

 

\--

 

When he next wakes up, he's in the infirmary bed. He's still in pain, but he feels significantly better. He takes account of his body. There are stitches weaving itself over the wound, as well as IVs in his arms. There's two little nubs in his nose to help him breathe, connected to an oxygen tank a few feet away. And in his hand, is another, paler one. Peter's. His is gripping Juno's softly, while he sits in the cushy seat, asleep. “Nureyev?” His voice sounds raspy. 

 

The man's eyes flutter open, and he looks happy when he sees that Juno is awake. He gets closer, no longer leaning back in the chair, but towards Juno. His elbows are propped on the bed, his hands now both clasping Juno's, and pressing it to his lips. “You worried me.” Peter tells him. His voice is a little croaky, in that way it only gets when he's being himself, waking up from sleep. 

 

“Yeah?” Juno muses. “Guess I should apologize about that.”

 

Peter shakes his head, sighing contentedly, like the cracked universe just slid into place. “Don't apologize to me, Juno.” His fingers slide between his own. His eyes rise to Juno's, and there's thievery when he looks at him that intently. “Apologetic isn't a good look on you. There's nothing to apologize for in the first place.”

 

“Liar.” Juno tells him. “I should've been more careful-”

 

“You're right.” He interrupts. “I am a liar. Sadly, everything is a good look on you. How in the world do you manage it? Do you know how much of my time is taken looking at you?”

 

Juno want to turn on his side. The wound in him would disagree, though, so he lays flat on the bed. He wants to turn, and look Peter Nureyev in his eyes, no strain to do so. He wants to admire the curve of his nose, the freckles, his hair unkempt and loose. He doesn't have his glasses on, since he was sleeping only moments ago. 

 

Juno wants to be close to him. That isn't something he aims for very often. There are even times where he can't have it at all, knowing that it might be too much for him. Yet right now, at the very specific time that he decidedly  _ cannot _ do as he pleases, he wants. It would be a siphon of heaven in Nureyev's arms. Juno tucking his face in Peter's neck would be a comfort that he wants so bad it almost hurts. Instead he rests Peter's hand against his forehead, wondering why he feels so bad. 

 

His head is a rerun of “ _ you don't deserve a bit of it anyway, so be grateful for every scrap given”. _

 

Peter gives Juno a quick kiss on the temple, and let's go of his hand. He gets up, and strides out of the room. Juno sits up. There's a hole eating at Juno's chest in the fact that he left. He cares more than enough anyways, Juno shouldn't expect anything more from him. 

 

That doesn't make the hurt go away. Juno wants Peter to be close to him. He wants him to stay there with Juno even if he doesn't do anything productive with it. 

 

“Juno, which one of these brands do you like more?” 

 

Juno startles at the sound of his boyfriends’ voice. “What?” He turns his head to look at the doorway. 

 

Nureyev has an expectant look on his face as he holds up two tubes of toothpaste. Juno takes a second to recognize what's happening. It looks like Nureyev didn't leave him to be by himself. He clears his throat. “The red one.”

 

Peter sets it on the little counter by the bed, with a toothbrush. He leaves for just a second again, swiftly coming back with a cup of water. Juno takes a hint, and starts to brush his teeth. Peter hands him the water when opens his hand for it. He gurgles it in his throat, before spitting it back into the cup. He wipes his mouth on the hospital gown. He watches Peter quickly tend to all of it, leaving the room once to put away the cup. 

 

When he comes back, he sits on the bed across from Juno. He's fidgeting. Something is wrong. 

 

Part of Juno wants to pretend that he can't even notice the difference. That he can't tell that Peter is fidgeting with his hands in the first place. It's frustrating, and Juno silently takes pride in the fact that he's actively not going to pretend nothing is happening. Communication is what he needs with Peter Nureyev right now. 

 

So he swallows, and does his best before his nerve runs out, causing him not to do it at all. “What's going on?” Juno asks. He hates that it sounds slightly accusatory. Juno tries to makes up for it by taking one of his hands in his own. Slender, long fingers. 

 

Peter squeezes his hand. “I was worried.” He says again. “I didn't want to be worried, but I was, and I-” He bites his lip, cutting himself off. 

 

“Hey,” Juno says as softly as he can. “It's just me, what is it?”

 

Peter sighs in exasperation. “I was scared, Juno. Terrified. I didn't  _ want  _ to feel that way, though. I wanted to be calm and collected. I wanted to  _ help _ , but I didn't do much more than get in Vespa's way.” He scrubs a hand over his face. He's frustrated, and he waits until quiet settles back over the room. 

 

Juno leans forward a little, putting a hand on his shoulder, and pulling him closer. Juno kisses him. His lips are soft, a little chapped. He's probably spent too much time in the infirmary. There's something wrong with the air conditioner. It makes the room a bit too dry. Juno doesn't mind in the least. 

 

He wants to keep kissing Peter. He wants to lay down, and feel Peter's body against him, warm and solid. The soft, gentle strongness of his hand as they intertwine with his own. Instead he pulls away. Peter goes to chase his lips, but Juno pushes feather light on his shoulder. “You…” His voice is rough, and just above a whisper. They're so close that Juno's pretty sure he could talk under his breath, and still be heard. “You cared. That's more than most people, and it's definitely more than enough for me.”  

 

Peter bumps his nose with Juno's own. His fingers brush soft and slow on his collarbone. “You're so lovely, Juno. I wish you could see how I see you.” Juno closes his eye. His face burns with the compliment. He knows that he can be pretty sometimes, he's not  _ ugly _ , not really, but Peter speaks of him in the same way Juno feels about Peter. The same way he's only felt with a few people. He's never thought that he could make anyone feel that way. 

 

“Is that another way of saying ‘ _ I love you _ ,’?” 

 

Peter gets tense for a second, but kisses Juno's neck, and relaxes. “It is.”

 

“Ditto. You make me happy.” Juno wants to say he loves him. He really  _ really _ does, because he knows it's true. Peter knows it too. They've both known for a long time, but Juno can't. Nureyev gives him time, and Juno appreciates it. 

 

Peter pulls back, and smirks. “I aim to please, Detective. Anything for such a stunning damsel.”

 

Juno smiles a little, and kisses him. Peter talks about him like the fact that no one has ever treated him with such care is imperious 

 

Right now, safe in his arms, with those bright eyes on his own, and his entire being pliant with trust, he can almost believe he's worth it. 


End file.
